Insane

Arrival

TW: Mention of Panic Attack, Implied Self-Harm, Handcuffing, Rough Treatment, Panic Attack, Neglect, Passing out, Yelling, Tying up, Use of the words "lunatic" and "insane" to describe people with from mental h ealth conditions, Use of the term "Lunatic Episode" to describe Panic Attacks, Mention of family member death, mention of death by fire, mention of burn scars, mention of PTSD, Blood, Punching, Breaking Nose. (This chapter isn't as bad as it sounds, don't worry) 

(I think that's all of them, please tell me if I missed any!)

I step out from our carrige, my mother close behind. The lime grass is the only inviting thing about this place. Mother still hasn't taken her hand off my lower arm. She's convinced herself I'll try to run, which was always a possibility, but I'd rather not get myself deeper in this situation. I'm not even sure how this all happened. Well, I am. But, it's all kinda blurry. I remember having one of the worst panic attacks of my life. Then I remember blood all over my arm, and a shard of glass in my hand, drizzled with the same crimson liquid. I remember being in the back seat of an ambulance carrige with a black metal handcuff digging into my clean wrist. I remember being talked to like a young child by a nurse, and I remember being carried into another carrige, with my arms binded to my sides. I also remember being told we were here and being unbinded by someone who I assume was a security guard.

A shiver runs down my spine as I look up at the building, a firm grip on my wrist as a nurse walks towards me.
"Mr Blair?" she asks my mother while motioning to me.
"Yes. Thank you." My mother replies. I start to stumble backwards towards the carrige I just got out from when I feel two hands on either of my arms. I feel my body moving closer to the building as it's darkness englufs me.

I feel my mother's breath on the back of my neck as I'm lead through the door. I hear her footsteps behind as well. I'm just glad that my Mother was the one to accompany me here, rather than my Father.

"I'm ashamed to have a lunatic such as you for a son."
His words spin around in my head and I feel as if I need to sit down. As I look up towards the reception desk, my vision starts to get burry. I keep thinking about how horrible it's gonna be here. How horrible it's gonna be here.  I feel my breathing increase as I keep thinking. Stop thinking. Stop thinking.

"He's having an Episode." I hear somebody near me say. I open my mouth to argue but no words escape my mouth. Black dots cloud my vision as I feel a damp cloth over my forehead. The aching lights of the reception area are the last thing I remember before everything goes black.

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The first thing I feel is an aching pain in my wrists. My eyelids flutter open and I see the same beige-coloured lights above me. The next thing I feel is discomfort all over my body. I'm lying on my back on a thin mattress and I feel the springs poking my back and legs.  I don't feel the pain in my arms though. That's when I tilt my head upwards and see that my hands are tied to the metal headboard of my bed by some white cloth.

I hear vague chatter from around the long room I'm in. I count five other beds. After wriggling my toes and ankles, I conclude that my ankles aren't tied to my bed. So, I place the souls of my feet on the matress and push backwards so that my back is against the barred headboard. I sit up slowly with my hands now behind my head, elbows facing the beige ceiling. I see a large window with metal detailings overlooking a large field with some people walking around aimlessly or sitting on benches. I shuffle around a little to be as comfortable as I can with my hands tied behind my head.

"Everyone! He's woken up!" The voice sounds happy and peppy. I turn towards the voice and see a boy. He looks a similar age to me. Maybe sixteen, seventeen or eighteen. He has strawberry blonde hair that falls to his ears. I look at him with fear lacing my pupils.
"Hey, hello! Look at me." A voice says. I turn towards the voice. It's a young man of a similar age with what looks to be a burn covering the whole right side of his face and neck. I do as he says and he snaps a pair of fingers with abdormally long nails that look as if they haven't been cut in months, which, if he's been here, I doubt they have.